


Shiksa Goddess

by PBJellie



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Middle School, Canon Jewish Character, Coming of Age, Dressing in Drag, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Slow Dancing, South Park Drabble Bomb, They're 12 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 11:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13763013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PBJellie/pseuds/PBJellie
Summary: Kyle has to go to a dance at the Jewish Community Center. Kenny gets the idea to tag along, as a wingman, date, or whatever.Written for the South Park Drabble Bomb. Day 4 - PDA





	Shiksa Goddess

**Author's Note:**

> Title and story inspired from the song Shiksa Goddess from The Last Five Years.

“Ma, I don't want to go to this stupid dance. None of the girls like me, it's a waste of time,” Kyle pulled on his green hat, covering his eyes as they made the journey back to South Park. South Park didn't have a JCC, of course not. And they had to make the drive to North Park at least once a week, sometimes twice, so, as Sheila eloquently stated, Kyle could learn about his people. He knew of his people; he was Jewish. What else was there to really know?

Didn't she get the memo that you could learn anything from the internet? Surely a Skype session with these people would be less grating. Not that he'd care more about the Torah while he was on the other side of a webcam, but it'd be easier to feign interest.

“Kyle Broflovski, you're going to go to this dance, so help me, and you are going to enjoy it. Why not invite a nice girl from school? Don't you like any of the girls at the community center?” Sheila hemmed and hawed as she reapplied her red lipstick in the mirror. Gerald grunted a noncommittal response.

“Kyle is a loser,” Ike called out from his car seat.

“And you're a pipsqueak,” he responded, pulling his hat off to run his hands through his unruly hair. His fingers got stuck, twice, but it's not like the hair pulling hurt, not really.

“If I'm twelve and I can't get a girl to like me, kill me.”

“Play nice you two,” Sheila snapped, popping her lips as she blotted them with a tissue.

“Lots of girls like me,” Kyle protested, shoving his hat on back over his hair, “you're too young to understand.”

“I've kissed a dozen girls, third graders, you haven't kissed anymore. The kids in Hebrew School make fun of you,” Ike taunted, kicking his legs against the driver's seat.

“Ike, stop kicking,” Gerald warned with a sigh.

“Mom, guess what Dad did on the computer?”

“Fine, do what you want Ike!” Gerald's grip tightened on the steering wheel as they parked in their garage. It was dark as they waited for the car to come to a complete stop. Ike had indeed resumed beating on his father's seat.

Kyle tossed and turned that evening, trying to come up with a way to get out of the dance. It crossed his mind that being banned from the community center might be an easier endeavor, and would remove him from all future events with the group.

“Whatcha thinking about, Jew boy?” Cartman chucked a snowball at Kyle as they waited for the bus.

“Shut your fat face, lard ass,” Kyle grumbled, with not real heat behind it.

“Mmh mmph mm?” Kenny titled his head as he spoke.

“No one can fucking hear you Ken,” Cartman laughed. “Kenny's so poor that his ears don't work, that how he didn't know we couldn't understand him.”

Kenny pulled down his hood, flipping Eric off in the process. He scooted next to Kyle, who every so often would let out a sigh, barely audible as he stared at the ground.

“What, Ken?” He asked, throwing his head towards the sky.

“You alright, Kyle? You that bummed that Stan has an orthodontist appointment? He'll be back at school, after lunch, no need to be so sad,” Kenny wrapped his arm around his friend, pulling him into side hug.

“Gay, you guys. Weak and gay. Didn't know y'all were like Tweek and Craig. I need to take four steps away, just so I don't catch it,” Cartman scoffed, shrinking away.

“Into traffic, if you could,” Kyle whispered, just loud enough for Kenny to hear.

“There it is, there's my friend,” Kenny laughed, shooting the bird at Cartman again.

“Eh! Fuck off your poor piece of shit!”

“Anyways,” Kenny started, removing his arm, “what's going on?”

“Stupid JCC and a stupid dance that I have to go to tonight. My stupid parents are making me go and spend time with stupid girls that don't like me,” Kyle kicked at the snow, wincing when it pushed up onto his pants. Great, now his ankles were cold.

“I bet they like you,” Kenny smiled.

“Nu-uh, girls never like Kyle. Rebecca didn't like Kyle, Leslie didn't like Kyle, Nichole didn't like Kyle, and Heidi sure as hell didn't like him. She's my girlfriend again and we're totally sweet. Bet your super jealous, huh? Nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh,” Cartman hummed sticking out his tongue at Kyle, “girls think you're stupid and think I'm totally kewl.”

“No one thinks your cool, Cartman,” Kyle replied, glaring at the dead glass he unearthed.

“Yeah, Heidi only dates you because she's dumb.”

“No way, she's smart and funny. You just can't accept that because your a bigot, Kenny. Must suck to be poor. Poor people are always like that, stuck in their ways.”

Kyle was cut off from his rebuttal by the breaks of the bus popping as the doors swung open. Kenny sat by him, nudging him every so often to try to cheer him up. Eric felt the need to tell the rest of the bus that no one like Kyle, because he was a Jew. Apparently Kyle was the Jewiest Jew and the other Jew girls didn't even like him.

He halfway paid attention to his classes, instead agonizing over how poorly this evening would go. Kenny kicked the back of his chair and sent wads of paper flying towards his head, but none of it really helped to cheer him up.

Also Stan didn't bother to show up to school. It's hard to be present when your super best friend is missing, even when you're not having a crisis. Kenny dropped his school lunch on the table next to Kyle, re-hydrated mashed potatoes jiggling as he slid into his seat.

“I'll go with ya,” Kenny proclaimed as he shoved a chicken nugget into his mouth. “How hard could being a Jew be?” He spat crumbs across the table as he spoke.

“What?” Kyle asked, raising his eyebrows as Kenny continued shoveling food into his mouth.

“I'll be your wingman, or date, or whatever,” Kenny slurped at chocolate milk, licking his lips when he was done.

“You're a boy, Ken,” Kyle rationed, looking him up and down, “and obviously not Jewish.”

“Oh, so all Jews look a certain way? That's anti-semitic,” Kenny laughed, scooping mashed potatoes into his mouth. Kyle was silent as he drained a plastic cup full of peaches. “Seriously, I'll help my bro out, it's what friends do.”

“Thanks,” Kyle hesitantly said, “I think.”

“I've still got my princess wear, you know. You did ask for my hand in marriage.”

“In the game, Kenny!” Kyle yelled, then blushed as the cafeteria turned to look at him. “It was a game, we were ten. I wanted to win the game and it was a strategic alliance,” Kyle added in a harsh whisper.

“You totally thought my tits were hot, didn't you?” Kenny taunted, stealing a bag of chips from in front of Kyle. He opened them with a pop, slamming his hands together against the bag then snorting.

“Not like Princess Kenny liked me, anyway. Like all the other girls in the world,” Kyle sighed as he pushed his lunch towards Kenny. He wasn't hungry. Maybe if he didn't eat, he'd faint. His cousin always fainted from low blood sugar. Kyle was pretty sure he'd just go into diabetic shock, but that sounded nice enough.

Better than the stupid dance.

He watched as Kenny ate his lunch, blathering on about how he'd have Kevin drop him off at the dance, just look for the blonde girl.

Kyle thought about that while he was wearing a stupid button up his mother insisted made him look handsome. He wasn't allowed his hat, and the gel didn't do much to tame his hair. And, to top it all off, he'd noticed when he got home from school that he had a zit, right on his nose.

He resigned himself to a night hovering around the punch bowl, monitoring his insulin until he was allowed to go home two hours later. Maybe he could claim he had a stomach ache, and hide in the bathroom. Cartman was right when he said that no one questions whether or not you actually have diarrhea.

Sheila insisted on kissing both of his cheeks before letting him out of the car. She wiped a wet thumb over the kiss marks, shouting that she loved him and she'd be back in two hours to pick him up.

Kyle scuffed his fancy shoes on the concrete, hoping to ruin them, as he walked towards the double doors. He looked up to see the Rabbi talking with a girl, oh no, not a girl, Kyle gulped, Kenny McCormick in a cheap wig and a fantasy dress.

“We're real close friends at school,” Kenny giggled in a voice much too high. “He's so handsome, don't you think, sir?”

“So glad you could make it,” Kyle stalled, trying to think of a name. He gulped, seeing two rainbow barrettes that he was certain belonged to his little sister. “Karen.”

“Oh, there you are, my close Jewish friend, who is very Jewish, isn't that right Kyle?” He tittered, eyes dead set in a glare as he took his hand.

“Glad you brought a friend, Kyle,” the man added, nodding his head as he opened the door to the dance floor. It was just a gymnasium that was rarely used covered in cheap streamers and balloons. “No funny business,” he called out as the door shut.

“Yeah, Kyle, keep your hands off of my business,” Kenny ordered, pulling his hand away. “And Karen, really? You get a date and all you can think about is my little sister? What are you, some kind of pervert?”

“This isn't a date,” he hissed. “I'm not,” his mouth went dry. “I'm not G-A-Y.”

“Oh, my friend,” Kenny snorted, adjusting his wig slightly as he threw his head back. “You are gay, super gay. But that's okay. I'm a little bit gay, too.”

“It's not that there's anything wrong with it, I mean,” he stumbled, looking around the mostly empty gym, “I'm just not. I like girls.”

“Are you saying I'm not enough of a girl for you, Broflovski?” Kenny jabbed, pressing his hands at his friends chest, then breaking out into laughter. “I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Wipe that horrified look off of your face. I'm just here to make you look like less of a total loser.”

“You called me your Jewish friend,” Kyle grumbled, making a beeline for the snacks.

“I couldn't tell him we nearly started a war with Canada, twice, could I? Would you rather I tell the story about how you tried to free a whale because you thought it could talk? Or the time that you snuck me into Jewbilee and I angered Moses? Those all seemed like bad starters. I'm not good under pressure; I'm trying my best here,” Kenny ranted, following Kyle to the snacks, making a sandwich out of the different flavors of cookies then eating it in one big bite. Kyle laughed, even if it was kind of gross.

“To be fair,” Kyle joked, pulling his friend away from the snack table as a stuffy woman in librarian glasses glared at them, “you're pretty good under pressure. I mean we're at the Jewish Community Center, it's real Jewish here.”

“Holy shit, is that Lisa Burger?” Kenny chortled, swallowing the last of his food as he spun around to look at Kyle. Kyle, being the one who was bad under pressure, decided that the best way to camouflage Kenny was to wrap him into a hug. They swayed as Celine Dion sang about her heart, or some other gay shit. Kyle wasn't really paying attention, he was more focused on Kenny's hot breath on his ear.

“This is really gay,” Kyle complained through gritted teeth as a flute played. His face was red as they swayed back and forth.

“Just like you,” Kenny responded, snorting like a pig.

“You make a terrible girl.”

“I'm pretty sure you're currently living up to all expectations as a nerd boy, so that's good.”

“Take that back.”

“Make me,” Kenny teased, wrapping his arms around Kyle. Somehow none of the adults in the vicinity had realized they were slow dancing a little bit too closely, with Kenny's face tucked away in Kyle's neck.

“Are you trying to touch my butt? In a place of worship? Haven't my people been through enough?”

“I mean, if I was going to be looking for misbehaving followers, the last place I would look is in church, right?” Kyle didn't bother to correct him. This wasn't a church, it was a community center, but with Kenny's hand around his waist and his heart pounding in his ears he supposed it didn't really matter. “Anyway, your stiffy shows me that you are totally digging this.”

“Kenny,” Kyle coughed, trying to match the tempo of Karen Carpenter as the song changed. “Lisa has been eating chips for like three minutes. We need a plan.”

“Just like me, they long to be, close to you,” Kenny sang softly as he chuckled. “My Ma really likes this song. It's better than the one about that boat.”

“My Heart Will Go On isn't about a the Titanic, Ken. It's from the movie. The movie wasn't real.”

“It was real dumb.”

Kyle had decided that he was going to slow dance towards the exit, the one near the bathrooms, not the one with the Rabbi. They swayed, occasionally stepping on each others feet as Kyle tried to steer them to the door. By the last repetition of the song, they made a break for it, both tearing out into a run as the doors swung open.

They ran until they were outside the building, hands on their knees as they caught their breath by the dumpsters. Kyle hardly even noticed the smell. He did notice the look on Kenny's face, and how his pigtail wig was halfway off his head. He reached to fix it, fingertips grazing the other boys ears.

“Uh,” Kyle panted, unsure if he was trying to catch his breath from his proximity with Kenny, or from running. “That was, um, that was something, huh, Ken?”

Kenny laughed, cornering Kyle against the wall and the dumpster. Kyle gulped, feeling his lungs deflate. Why was he so close? Why was his nose so close? Did Kenny have a cute nose? If people could even have cute noses, then yes, he certainly did.

And then, before Kyle could rationalize what was happening, they were kissing. Soft, at first, Kenny's arms resting on either side of Kyle's shoulders. Kyle opened his mouth in protest and then there was tongue. Kenny's tongue. He tasted like Oreos. Kyle realized, when he grew braver, that the chocolate crumbs stuck to his teeth. They broke apart after a few minutes, each panting, again.

“It's okay, we'll work on it,” Kenny laughed as he walked towards the parking lot.

Kyle nodded.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first try at K2, so let me know what you think, please? 
> 
> Also this is apparently the Drabble Bomb of musicals and Kenny.


End file.
